


Lazy Weekend Interrupted

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: A Breath of Home [55]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Ryan meet at the San Diego Comic Con and hot sex ensues. In this chapter, an old friend of Sam's drops by.</p><p>
  <i>Ryan breathes a sigh of relief when the two men wander off, catching up on stories and laughing loudly. "Idiot," he mutters under his breath, and pinches the bridge of his nose hard. "Idiot, idiot, idiot..." <b>God</b>. Sam's good mate. Slash, former lover. Slash, current lover? Slash, <b>kinky slave-owning freak</b>. Ryan is so far out of his depth here that it's almost laughable.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Weekend Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the RPG Citadel, this is NOT backstory for our pups in the game. In Citadel, Sam is played as the actor and Ryan is played AU as a songwriter. And then a little birdie told us our boys were going to be at SDCC at the same time in real life and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what would happen in another world, with the boys both as their actor selves.

Sam yawns, muffling his mouth against his shoulder, before slouching down into the couch even more, his arm tightening around Ryan as they watch the game. "I'm gonna fall asleep on you," he warns, brushing his lips across his lover's nape.

"So, what else is new?" Ryan teases softly. He pops a few chips into his mouth, then licks salt and cayenne from his fingers. "What the fuck is with this, anyway?" he grumbles idly at the screen. "I mean, I get American football. I do. And they play hard, I'll give them that. But why do they even bother with all that fucking padding?"

"You think they should just bang the shit out of each other?" Sam asks, chuckling when he realizes what he's said.

"They could at least _pretend_ not to be pussy Americans," Ryan mutters, lifting Sam's hand to his mouth and lightly nipping at his finger.

Sam laughs outright at that and then shifts so he can kiss the side of Ryan's neck this time. "I hope you're not actually watching this," he murmurs, pressing his growing erection against his lover's ass. "You might-- fuck," cursing under his breath as his phone chooses that very moment to ring.

"I might fuck... you?" Ryan asks, but he helpfully snags Sam's cell phone off the table and hands it to his lover; he doesn't want Sam getting up if they can avoid it. Not with that demanding spike pressing against him so suggestively.

That sounds like a pretty good idea to Sam. "Yeah?" he answers, without even looking at the screen. "Hey, mate. It's good to hear from you," although god knows, his friend could have better timing. "What're you up to?" There's a long pause. "You are? Here? In L.A.?" Christ. 

Alert to the subtle change in Sam's tone of voice, Ryan disentangles himself from his lover after all, sitting up and turning so that he can see Sam's face. And watch him for cues.

"That's great," Sam says, eyes widening as he listens. "Sure. No problem. Any idea how long? Just so I can clear my calendar a bit. Three, four nights? Sure. You have the address?" He rattles it off. "I'm just watching a game-- NFL," he laughs, rolls his eyes and raspberries the phone. "Anyway. I'm watching it with a mate but you might as well meet him. Okay. Great. See you in a bit."

Ryan looks at Sam, waiting. "Unexpected guest, incoming?"

"Yeah." Shit. Sam sits up too. "My mate, Mike. I think I might have mentioned him before? He's the only one who knows about me."

"Knows about you," Ryan echoes, studying Sam. "Sooo, does that mean I... don't have to move out for a few days? Or, I do?"

"No, god no, not if you're okay with meeting him," Sam says, shaking his head. "I just - I haven't actually introduced him to a guy before, and he and I usually... you know."

Ryan stares at his lover for a long moment, perplexed... then he blinks. Hard. " _Oh_. You two usually... Oh." He nods. "Right." _Fuck_.

"It's okay. He'll understand," Sam says, reaching for his beer and taking a good long swig. "He can have the guest room."

"...Okay." Ryan gives Sam a bright - if distracted - smile. In more than a year, he's never met one of Sam's former flames; well, except for Eva, and she clearly was just enjoying herself, with no ultimate designs on Sam. Ryan hopes he's able to keep cool about this. "He's from back home?"

"Yeah. We went to drama school together but he ended up modeling for a bit and then mostly doing theatre," Sam says, finishing off his beer. "His parents live in Vancouver now so he's on his way to visit them. Thought he'd take a few days here."

"Okay, cool." Twisting around to get one knee beneath him on the couch, Ryan begins rubbing Sam's cock through his jeans. "How soon do you think he'll get here?" They'd just been starting to build up to something good, damn it...

Sam smiles, groaning softly. "He was at the airport, so... thirty minutes, maybe forty-five..."

"Thirty minutes, huh?" Ryan's grin winks, wolfish. "I can probably fuck you a few times in the space of thirty minutes." He unzips Sam's jeans and dips down to lap at the crown of his cock.

"Fuck," Sam breathes, sliding his hand into Ryan's hair, all thoughts of Mike completely washed away. "You have the best mouth."

Ryan laughs softly, sucking briefly on the head before teasing, "Don't get too used to it." He cups Sam's balls in his hand and gives the sac a gentle squeeze. "You're bringing some other guy into our home? You'd better believe I'm taking your ass first."

Sam laughs. "How do you want me?" he asks.

Raising an eyebrow, Ryan attempts to keep his smirk from completely taking over. "Every way I can get you." Ask a stupid question...

"You're wasting your 30 minutes," Sam informs him, grinning. "Unless you were just teasing and you want me to take your ass."

"Not this time." Ryan shakes his head, then gets to his feet. "On the floor," he orders softly. "Hands and knees."

"You want my clothes off or just my jeans down?" Sam asks, sitting forward on the couch.

"Ordinarily I'd say naked. But since we're on a tight schedule here..." Ryan grins, dragging his gaze over the tempting lines of his lover's body. "Jeans down. Ass in the air, like the slutty motherfucker you are."

Sam laughs, standing to open his jeans and push them down over his thighs. "I'm gonna get that put on a t-shirt and we can take turns wearing it around the house," he says, folding to his knees and dropping forward, hands braced against the thick rug beneath them.

"Uh-huh." It's an absolutely brilliant idea as far as Ryan is concerned. But any more erudite response he might have made is forgotten as he gets completely distracted by the glimpse of Sam's tight pucker, so teasingly inviting. Ryan swallows a soft moan and kneels down behind Sam. He spreads his lover's ass open with his hands, then leans in and licks a wet swipe over his hole.

Cursing under his breath, Sam shifts his legs wider, his cock jerking hard, precome pearling at its tip.

God, Ryan loves this. And with the reminder riding on his shoulder that this might be the last bit of privacy they have for a few days... He snags one of the many bottles of lube they've got scattered through the house but doesn't use it yet. Instead he gets his fingers good and wet with spit and slips one in alongside his tongue, curling it to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Sam grunts, dropping his head to his hands, his ass even higher in the air. Fuck. Moaning as he pushes back, mindful of the fact that the clock's ticking away.

"You are so fucking hot," Ryan whispers, and turns to rub his cheek against Sam's ass, deliberately abrading tender skin with his stubble. He kneels up once more and pops open the lube, then pushes two fingers into that tight hole before adding a third. "So goddamn sexy."

"So fucking impatient," Sam quips, groaning roughly as his body fights the stretch despite the throbbing of his cock.

Ryan snickers softly. "Demanding, too," he remarks, fucking his fingers in and out. With his other hand, he unzips his jeans.

"Only because we're about to have a guest," Sam says, surprised he can even talk at this point. "C'mon... fuck me..."

"We're about to have a guest, right. So if I draw this out long enough then you won't have time to shower, and he'll be able to fucking smell me on you," Ryan murmurs. The idea turns him on even more. He wipes his hand on his thigh and then lines up, pushing inside with one hard rush of his hips.

Jesus Christ. Sam almost comes right there and then and whether it's from the words or the way Ryan just shoves into him, he'd be hard-pressed to decide.

Usually with Sam, Ryan's on the bottom even when he's on top; it's just the way things fall out with them, and he's happy with that. But still, that fact just makes him savor moments like this all the more. "God, you feel amazing," he breathes, his reverent tone at odds with the rhythmic slam of his cock into his lover.

"So do you," Sam blurts out, managing to hold out another minute before getting his hand on his cock and stroking to match Ryan's thrusts.

"Ohgod fuckyeah," Ryan moans, subtly changing the angle of his thrusts and cursing with the change in sensation. "God yes, Sam. Come with me." Because he doesn't know how much longer he can hold on...

It doesn't take more than that. Sam shouts, his orgasm crashing over him in waves, every single one threatening to drown him.

"Christ!" Feeling Sam quake and unravel around him, _hearing_ his lover shout his pleasure -- it blows Ryan right off the edge. He digs his fingers into Sam's hips and lets loose with a primal howl, emptying his seed into his lover's tight ass.

Sam shivers with the hot rush, pressing back once more, wanting every last fucking drop. He pants softly, head hanging between his shoulders, and drops his hand from his cock, reaching back to touch Ryan's fingers.

With a groan Ryan pulls out, and he completely ignores the mess they've made as he simply lies back and pulls Sam down with him.

"Fuck," Sam breathes, wrapping his arms around Ryan. "I wish Mike wasn't coming. We could just crawl into bed and do that again in a while."

Ryan snorts a laugh, although he can't deny the brilliance of Sam's suggestion. He kisses his lover's throat, lingering over the heat and scent of him. "Shower?"

"I thought you wanted him to smell you on me?" Sam teases.

"I'm fine with that if you are," Ryan agrees, giving his lover a wicked smile. It's territorial as all hell and probably petty, too; some evolutionary instincts are just too hard to fight.

Sam tugs Ryan in for another kiss. "I don't mind, but I'd better clean up a little at least. Can you answer the door if he gets here while I'm in the washroom?"

 _Awkward_ , Ryan thinks, but what he says is, "Sure, yeah. No problem." He traces a fingertip over Sam's cheekbone, lingering. "Oh, is he kinky or anything? Are there topics I need to avoid?"

"Yeah, actually. He's pretty hardcore. He's bisexual but he has a slave, Lisa, they've been together for 10-15 years now," Sam says, giving Ryan one more kiss before he sits up. "I won't be long though." He glances at his watch. "Give me ten."

He leaves Ryan staring after him, jaw dropped open. _Slave???_ Ryan thinks, still sitting on the floor and trying hard to make sense of it. In a way, it's just one more of those things that he's read about, heard about, but didn't think actually ever happened in reality. Of course, in another way, it's just so much more extreme, and it blows his mind to think it's actually true, that people really _do_ that. Despite his bafflement, he manages to get to his feet and wander into the kitchen, cleaning himself up a tiny bit and then dragging his clothes back on.

Mike gives a low whistle when he gets out of the cab in front of Sam's place. He knows it's just a rental but still. He pays the driver and slings his carry-on over his shoulder. Gives the neighbourhood another look and then rings the doorbell, yawning against the back of his hand as he waits for someone to answer.

His eyes widen at the sound of the bell, and Ryan slams the refrigerator shut. "Shit!" he whispers, because of course Sam isn't back out of the bathroom yet. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mutters, making his way to the duplex's private entrance on the second-floor landing. "Hey--" he swings the door open and then has to mentally kick himself back into gear. But Sam didn't mention that Mike is all kinds of hot -- dark hair, dark eyes, built as all hell and a couple inches taller than Ryan. "You must be Mike," he says, reaching out a hand and giving the man a friendly smile. "I'm Ryan. Come on in."

Mike does a doubletake at Ryan but recovers quickly, shaking his hand. "Kwanten, right? I'm a huge fan," he says. "Actually, my girlfriend and I are both huge fans. I didn't know you knew Sam?"

"Yeah, we met at Comic-Con a couple years ago," Ryan answers, beckoning Mike inside. "I'd offer to take your bag, but you've only got the one? Let me grab you a beer instead. And thanks, that's great that you like the show." God. Ryan's mouth is running, and he hears it running. He just can't make it stop.

"A beer would be great," Mike says, setting his bag just inside the door. "Wow. This place is really something else. Look at those views." He shakes his head, staring out at the ocean. "Lucky bastard."

"Yeah, and you know he doesn't really give a shit about it, either," Ryan says with a quick dimpled grin. He pops the tops on two beers, and hands one of the bottles to Mike. "I mean, the beach, sure. But the huge flash house? Eh." And Ryan absolutely adores that about Sam, that he's filthy rich and yet totally unconcerned with pretentious consumption. Making down-to-earth look so damn sexy.

"So where is he anyway?" Mike asks, taking a sip from his beer, the dark ale hitting the spot.

"Oh, he's just..." Ryan gestures towards the hallway, the bathroom beyond. "I think he's just, just cleaning up a bit," he answers, suddenly praying that he doesn't blush in front of Mike, damn. "He'll be out in a minute."

There's something about the way Ryan says that, about the way he doesn't quite meet Mike's eyes... "So, you live around here, too?" he asks.

Ryan hesitates for a split-second, then seizes the opportunity he's just been handed. "I live here," he replies, and now he does look up to meet Mike's questioning eyes. "I just moved in a couple weeks ago."

Well, there's no way Sam would need a roommate and it's not like Ryan should be hurting for money either so Mike feels pretty confident in saying, "So, you two...?"

"Yeah." Ryan shrugs and tries to make it look casual, but he has a feeling he doesn't quite make it. "For more than a year now. We don't usually get to be in the same city together for more than a few days, so this is really awesome."

"I'll bet," Mike says softly, truly stunned, even though it's pretty much what he expected. But to have it confirmed? And the fact they've been together for over a year? Shit. Sam is so getting hell over this. "Do your mates know?"

"Some of them." Ryan slides onto one of the bar stools and folds his arms on the counter. "He's met my family and a bunch of my coworkers, and my best friends back home know about him, but they haven't gotten to meet him yet."

Mike nods, taking another sip of his beer. "What did he tell you about me?" he asks.

"He said that you two have fucked around a whole lot," Ryan replies. As weird as it feels to be discussing this, he's grateful that Mike is addressing it all up front; at least they'll both know where they stand. "He also said that you have a slave." Since they're being so honest...

"Yeah, Lisa," Mike says, a little surprised Sam actually mentioned her. Well, not that he mentioned her, but their relationship. "What about you guys? Are you open?"

"Open?" Ryan echoes, wanting to make sure he's absolutely clear on Mike's meaning. "You mean, do we both just sleep around with whoever, whenever we want?"

Mike shakes his head. "I was thinking more along of the lines of whether you both ever sleep with someone else," he says. "Or more to the point, whether I'm going to be shit out of luck the next few days." He grins at Ryan, hoping the other man won't be offended by his bluntness.

"Oh." Ryan chuckles softly. "Yeah, it's been known to happen. I doubt you're out of luck." He swallows another mouthful of cold beer, wondering just what the hell is keeping Sam.

"Out of luck for what?" Sam asks, coming back into the room. He wraps an arms around Mike's neck and hugs him in close. "It's good to see you," he says, grinning at his mate. "Been way too fucking long."

"Out of luck for getting lucky with one or both of you," Mike says, grinning and hugging back. "And yeah, it has been."

Sam stares at Mike for a moment then looks over at Ryan. "I wasn't gone that long, was I?"

Ryan shrugs like he's completely blameless. "We had to find something to talk about."

Sam just shakes his head, thoroughly amused. "What else did you cover?" he asks Ryan, wanting to make sure he doesn't cross any lines he shouldn't.

"Um, I think that was pretty much it." Ryan hands Sam a beer of his own.

"Ryan told me he's living here and that you two have been seeing each other for over a year," Mike says, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"Thanks," Sam says to Ryan, with a nod at the beer, then flashes a sheepish grin at Mike. "We weren't telling anyone until this last while," he explains.

"Right. And, um... now's about the time of day when I start scrambling for take-away menus," Ryan puts in, because he's got no fucking clue what to talk about, or even whether he should really be in the room right now. Is he crowding them? "So, any dinner requests?"

"I'm good with whatever," Mike says, dragging a stool around the other side of the island and taking a seat. He grins at Sam. "I guess you're forgiven. But if you guys decide to come out, you'd better make sure I have first dibs on the info."

"Not likely," Sam says, rolling his eyes and moving to stand behind Ryan, arms wrapped around his lover. "How about Chinese or Thai?"

"Szechuan," Ryan decides, settling into Sam's embrace for a moment. He's not at all accustomed to Sam showing physical affection like this in front of anyone else and it surprises him a bit, makes him think it's a show for Mike. Which means something good, he supposes. So when he slips off his stool he turns and gives Sam a quick kiss on the lips before he begins rummaging through their menu drawer.

"How's Lisa?" Sam asks, settling on the stool Ryan vacated. "She didn't come with you this time?"

"She couldn't get the time off from work," Mike says. "We took those two months last year to travel through Europe and she used up all her vacation time for that."

Ryan's ears perk up in curiosity at Mike's words, and he hopes like anything that he's not about to stick his foot in it with Sam's mate. But he's just got so many _questions_. "She works full-time?"

Mike nods. "She's a paralegal," he says, then cocks his head at Ryan, realization slowly dawning. "Oh, you mean because she's my slave?"

"Right." Ryan nods in confirmation, and feels his face heat up in an instant. _Damn it_. "But your arrangement allows her to work full-time."

"Yeah. She used to stay home but after a few years she told me she wanted to do something more during the day and she went back to school and started working." Mike smiles and gives a light shrug. "When she gets home, she gets changed and comes to me so I can put on her collar and we go from there."

Sam's quiet during the exchange, just nursing his beer and watching Ryan, wondering what his lover's making of all of this.

"Oh." Ryan nods again, feeling like a ventriloquist's dummy. He's burning up with questions, but he simply can't let them all loose. It's just... too much, without an invitation. So he finishes off his beer, hoping someone else will shoulder the conversational burden.

Mike's not sure if he's said something wrong or made Ryan uncomfortable. He glances at Sam who gives a quick shake of his head. What he hopes is a 'don't worry'. "What are we ordering?" he asks. "Do you like things spicy?" He assumes so, if they're ordering Szechuan.

"Oh yeah. Extra spicy," Ryan agrees, and feels like a complete idiot.

"Just order our usual," Sam says. "And maybe double up on everything? I'm sure any leftovers'll get eaten." He grins at Mike. "Want to see the rest of the place? You can put your stuff in the guestroom." At the very least it'll buy Ryan a couple minutes to process.

Ryan breathes a sigh of relief when the two men wander off, catching up on stories and laughing loudly. "Idiot," he mutters under his breath, and pinches the bridge of his nose hard. "Idiot, idiot, idiot..." _God_. Sam's good mate. Slash, former lover. Slash, current lover? Slash, _kinky slave-owning freak_. Ryan is so far out of his depth here that it's almost laughable.

He dials their favorite Szechuan place and orders their "usual", times two. That taken care of, he pops open another beer and slams it down, pounding alcohol into his system as rapidly as he can manage right now.

"Okay, that's that," Sam says, coming back into the room a few minutes later, Mike right behind him. "Got him all settled in. Food on its way?" he asks, wrapping his arms around Ryan's waist, because he can, and pulling his lover in close for a kiss.

"Yeah. They promised delivery in thirty minutes, but you know it's always more like forty-five." Ryan kisses Sam again, a shock of pure heat rushing through his system at the feel of his lover's body against his. Maybe the beer wasn't such a brilliant idea after all; he always gets kissy when he's drunk.

"Should we just eat in front of the game, or do you want to use the table?" Sam asks, a little surprised at how openly affectionate Ryan's being in front of Mike.

"I vote for the table if you guys are going to crawl all over each other," Mike says, deeply amused. "Although watching..." He grins at them both.

"Pervert," Sam responds, rolling his eyes and sliding his hands down to cup Ryan's ass and drag him in even closer.

"Um, pot," Mike counters. Christ. He's going to be calling Lisa late tonight, that's for sure.

God, Sam's hands on his ass... Ryan groans softly and rubs against his lover, but just the sound of Mike's voice still makes him feel self-conscious. On second thought, more alcohol might be just the thing.

"You want me to stop touching you?" Sam murmurs, brushing his lips over the side of Ryan's neck, Mike completely ignored for the moment.

"No... Yeah," Ryan answers, forcing himself to step back. Does he ever want Sam to stop touching him? "I'm going to grab some vodka. Want any?"

It's rare that Ryan goes for the hard liquor and Sam sort of blinks before nodding. "Yeah, sure. You?" he asks Mike.

"Yeah. Maybe one. Otherwise I'll just be passing out and my system'll end up even more fucked up," Mike answers, smiling, hands in his pockets.

Three shot glasses line up on the table, and Ryan fills each nearly to the brim with chilled Absolut. He sets the bottle to the side and looks at Sam, then slams back the shot.

Sam chuckles and follows suit, laughing as Mike chokes on his. "It's fucking vodka," he tells him. "You can't choke on it. Another?" he asks Ryan, rather enjoying this and curious to see where the hell this all leads.

Ryan shrugs. "Sure." He lines them up and fills them again, licking a drop of vodka from his finger before lifting his glass. "Cheers."

Mike's eyes follow Ryan's tongue and he just barely bites back a groan. Christ. By now, usually, Sam would have already fucked him through the floor and he would've returned the favour. Instead, he's stuck staring at Sam's _boyfriend_ , certain it's likely to be just him and his hand tonight.

But Mike's not the only one caught by the sight of Ryan's tongue. Sam's mesmerized. _Fuck._ He crooks a finger at Ryan, beckoning him closer.

Cautiously - although that one remaining spark of caution is dwindling faster and faster - Ryan steps in closer to his lover, full glass still in hand.

"Give me your hand," Sam says softly, well aware they're playing to an audience.

Perplexed, Ryan nonetheless obeys, linking his fingers with his lover's, and watching Sam's eyes.

Sam grins and untangles their fingers, giving Ryan's a kiss before he dips them in Ryan's glass of vodka and brings them to his mouth again, sucking them in, tongue wrapping around them.

Ryan moans softly, the sound escaping his throat before he can censor himself. But _god_ , the power of Sam's tongue combined with that wicked look in his eye... Blood pulses in Ryan's cock and it takes all the self-control he can muster not to start stripping right now.

Mike groans, eyes locked on the sight in front of him. He's just about to ask whether he can touch too when the doorbell rings and breaks the whole fucking spell.

"I'll get that," Sam says, letting Ryan's fingers slip from his mouth, his lover's hand given a tight squeeze before he heads down the stairs.

 _Fuck!_ Now Ryan's alone with Mike, his cheeks flaming and his cock a lewdly obvious bulge in his jeans... "Sorry," he mumbles, turning away to grab a handful of paper napkins.

"It's okay," Mike says, touching Ryan's arm. "Seriously. I'm not thinking anything except that you're incredibly hot."

Ryan raises an eyebrow, surprised that Mike is actually acknowledging the elephant in the room. "Oh. Thanks," he says, and gives the man a shrug. "I just... I don't think I've really met one of Sam's exes before, you know? I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to act."

Mike laughs. "I wouldn't dignify what Sam and I have by calling me an ex," he says with a smile. "We're just... friends with very occasional benefits," he finishes, thinking it sounds better than _fuckbuddies_. "And I guess it depends on how you want to act."

 _Jesus_. "You mean, like. Do I think we should all just get naked and go for it?" Ryan asks, glancing aside as Sam comes back into the kitchen, his arms loaded with take-away sacks.

"Well, that's one way it could go," Mike says honestly, "if that's what you want, but honestly, I'd be happy to watch you guys, or let Sam fuck me if you want to watch..."

Sam blinks hard over the bags, not quite sure how the conversation ended up where it has in the time it took him to answer the door. 

"I... That could be fun," Ryan agrees, turning to face Sam. "Here let me help you with those." He carefully takes a few bags from Sam's arms and lays them out on the dinner table, beginning to open cartons and rearrange the dishes in a logical order. "I've never watched anyone fuck him."

"Fuck me?" Sam clarifies.

"Right." Ryan nods, but doesn't look up.

"You want to watch Mike fuck me," Sam says, amused. He shakes his head at his friend. "I go to get the take-out and you completely corrupt him while I'm gone."

Mike laughs. "I did not. I suspect you did a fair job of that before I ever got here."

Ryan shrugs. "He also offered to let you fuck him while I watch." He snags the shot glasses and half-empty bottle of vodka and takes his seat at the table.

"And who's going to fuck you?" Sam teases softly, kissing the side of Ryan's neck before slipping into his own chair, Mike settling across from him.

"Me? Hey, I'm the prize," Ryan challenges, only half swallowing his grin. Right. Like he's ever made Sam work for it.

Mike's grin widens. "Yeah? How do we get you?"

Ryan laughs and takes another shot of vodka. What is _wrong_ with Mike? Sam is sitting right there, likely up for most anything, and Mike's got eyes on _Ryan_? It fucking baffles him. He glances at his lover. "Is he for real?"

Sam laughs. "Ask him about his crush," he says, filling his plate with food.

Quirking an eyebrow, Ryan looks to Mike. "Your crush?" He begins scooping spicy Szechuan pork onto his plate, then passes the container to Sam.

"You're a bastard," Mike informs Sam, starting to help himself to the containers as Sam hands them over. He huffs out a breath. "I had a huge crush on Vinnie," he explains.

At first Ryan just looks at Mike in question, trying to decipher what he's talking about. Then, "Vinnie Patterson?" he asks incredulously, recalling the character he played for eight years on the Aussie soap _Home and Away_. "With the-- with the hair, Vinnie?" It definitely wasn't one of his best looks.

"Yes." Mike sighs again. "You looked hot like that, at the time," he says. "Not that you don't look hot now. Actually, you look hotter now, but for the time, you were hot." He kicks Sam under the table. "Admit it asshole, you had a crush too."

"Not a crush," Sam corrects him, moving his legs. "Not like you. I just agreed I'd do him."

"Ohh, god." Ryan looks away, then can't help snickering. "Um. I'm flattered, I think. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm flattered," he tells Mike.

"So, see, he's serious when he asks what he has to do to get the prize," Sam says, using his chopsticks to pick up some noodles and pop them into his mouth.

 _Jesus H. Christ._ Ryan stares at his plate, suddenly intent on his food. Okay, so he's never been great at this bit; it doesn't matter how much in his life he's been hit on or pursued, he still doesn't quite feel comfortable handling it. "Um." He picks up the bottle of vodka and tops off their shots. "How about... you fuck Sam, and if you can do that without coming, then I'll fuck you?" It really is more of a question than anything else, and he looks at his lover uncertainly, to try and gauge what Sam thinks of that idea.

"But if I make him come, I get to fuck you and he just has to watch," Sam says with a grin, eyes sparkling.

Ryan snorts a soft laugh, and glances at Mike. "Hell, that works for me."

"I can hold out," Mike insists, wondering how the hell he's supposed to concentrate on dinner now.

"Maybe," Sam teases. "You don't usually."

"Wait, how long did you say you two've been friends?" Ryan asks. He can't help but wonder for a fleeting moment whether someday _he_ will be the topic of reminiscence between them over dinner, on a night far into the future.

Sam looks at Mike. "1995? We met at drama school," he says. "So it's been, what, sixteen, seventeen years?" Math's never been his strong suit.

Mike nods. "About that."

"And how long was it before the two of you started fooling around together?" Ryan asks, leaning back in his chair. He really should have brought out some more beers, damn, if only to give himself something to drink other than vodka. He's got a solid buzz going on now.

Sam ducks his head a little at that. "A week," he says.

Ryan stares at him for a second. Then he bursts out laughing. "Sorry, sorry," he says with a wave of his hand. "I'm in no position to judge, I'm sorry. That's just not an answer I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?" Mike asks.

"I don't know. That you'd been mates for years before each of you ever figured out the other was bent?" Ryan snickers.

Sam laughs. "Nah. He passed out drunk in my bed and I woke up with his hand on my cock. That pretty much said it all."

"Hey, that could have been a complete accident. I'll finger pretty much anyone if you get me drunk enough," Ryan reveals with a laugh, grinning crookedly at his own follies.

"And here I thought you just got kissy," Sam says with a grin, watching Ryan, his chest tightening sharply. For all that they're cavalierly discussing fucking around, he is so love in with this man... Can't imagine _being_ with anyone else.

"There's a fine line of alcohol between kissing and fingering," Ryan murmurs, leaning in to flick his tongue over Sam's bottom lip. God, when Sam looks at him that way? It's hard to remember that Mike even exists.

Sam groans softly, his jeans tightening again. "I love you," he murmurs.

Mike watches, spellbound, stunned when Sam says those words. He doesn't even remember Sam using them when he was with that stylist. Certainly never in front of him.

"I love you, too." Ryan grins. "Tell me when you're done eating." Because as kinky as Sam sometimes coaxes him into acting, Ryan does _not_ want Szechuan chili sauce on his tender parts.

"Someone's in a rush," Sam teases, tearing a spring roll in two and popping a piece into his mouth.

"Can you blame him?" Mike asks, grinning widely. "Especially if he hasn't seen anyone fuck you."

"Well, I did watch myself once. We filmed it," Ryan explains. "Never thought I'd see myself on television with my tongue up another man's ass."

Mike groans. "Really?" _Fuck._ "Any chance of getting a private showing?" he asks, giving them both a playful leer.

"Maybe. It might take some more vodka," Ryan says, flushing just a little, even as he realizes how incredible it is that he can still feel shy about _any_ of this. "Like... maybe one more shot." He quirks a grin.

Mike grins back. He reaches for the bottle and pours Ryan another glass.

"You guys are such fucking perverts," Sam deadpans, shaking his head.

Ryan just snorts a laugh. "You know, you're the first of Sam's mates I've met who knew about him," he tells Mike. "About us. I'm not used to _not_ having to hide how hot he makes me."

Mike smiles. "That's always a plus," he says a little more seriously. "And actually, I think I'm the only one who knows." Looking to Sam for confirmation.

"Pretty much," Sam agrees.

"Of course, Sam's the only one who knows about me and Lisa," Mike adds. "Well, about the dynamics of our relationship."

"...Yeah." Ryan chews meditatively on his bottom lip for a moment. "Can I... Is it all right if I ask you a bit about that? Your... your relationship with Lisa?"

"Yeah, of course, ask away," Mike replies, helping himself to more Chinese food.

Ryan nods, and slams back his fresh vodka shot. "Um," he says, after swallowing hard and taking a deep breath for courage. "Why a slave? I mean, what's different with her being your slave than if she were just... just your kinky girlfriend?"

Sam chews his food a little more slowly, glancing between the two men.

"Well, if she were just my kinky girlfriend she'd have the right to decide when she feels like submitting and whenever I told her to do something, she'd have the choice whether to do it or not. Being my slave, she's already made that choice, to submit to me completely and she likes not having to choose. We both do," Mike says, pausing for a moment. "There's also an ownership component we like. We know it's not legal but our agreement that she's mine, that she belongs me, that I will take care of her no matter what, it appeals to us both."

It sounds like an alien world to Ryan. "But... what if you tell her to do something she doesn't want to do? But she's your slave, so she doesn't get a choice?"

Sam refills his plate and downs another shot, sort of quietly blending into the background while his lover and his mate talk. Mike's got a good way of explaining these things, probably way better than himself, so he's happy to let the man do it.

"No, she doesn't," Mike agrees. "Short of something that would cause her actual physical or emotional harm, or if I told her to do something illegal, she's already agreed to comply. But the thing is, she gets off on that. She likes being mine. She likes me pushing her down over the counter or table and fucking her when I feel like it. And she likes serving me. She takes pleasure in my pleasure."

"Huh." Mike's words are evocative as hell, no question -- painting a brilliantly-colored picture in Ryan's mind. He's just not certain he's entirely comfortable with the concept. "I guess that must be a... a thing," he says after a moment, then realizes how inadvertently offensive he might sound. "I mean, the two of you must be a really good fit," he hastens to explain. "Like, I think I could imagine being that way with Sam, but only sometimes. And never at all with other people."

Mike smiles. "Well, it's all about what works for you," he says. "I can't imagine doing it if I had to be separated from Lisa all the time for work. Me visiting my parents for a couple of weeks or her going away with her girlfriends, that's the limit on how much time we spend apart. But I know people who do it even though they're separated regularly, and I know people who only do it on weekends," he says with a laugh and a small shrug. "Don't ever listen to anyone who tells you any of this has to be done in one way and only one way to be legit."

"Or that if you're submissive with one person, you have to be with others," Sam says, finally adding his two cents. "Sexuality's a lot more fluid than most people think it is."

"Definitely," Mike nods.

"You mean, not just the way we do it?" Ryan asks Sam with a little smile. He can't help but wonder about details of how Sam and Mike have played together over the years, but he realizes it's not important enough to him to ask. Which is actually kind of comforting. "And here I thought you were just taking it easy on me because of how new I am to everything."

Sam grins. "Well, there's that too," he says, reaching for Ryan's hand and giving it a squeeze.

Mike just shakes his head. "You two. I don't think I've ever seen him so goofy over anyone," he says to Ryan, throwing back another shot of vodka.

"Really?" Ryan looks at Mike in question, then smiles shyly at his lover. "I like him goofy."

Sam smiles back, ducking his head just a little, then shakes it at Mike. "You're gonna give away all my fucking secrets while you're here, aren't you?" Not that how he feels about Ryan is much of one. Hell, sometimes he thinks anyone would just have to look at him when they're in the same room and they could tell.

Mike grins. "Yup. That's the plan."

Sam just laughs and shakes his head. "Everyone had enough to eat?" he asks, glancing at the mostly empty containers. There's two they never got to but he figures that's lunch for tomorrow. Chinese makes the best fucking leftovers. Mike and Ryan nod and he stands, not caring that he's already half-hard in anticipation, his cock an obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. "I'll just pop those into the fridge, the dishes can go in the dishwasher and the rest can be put on the counter. I'll deal with it later."

Getting to his feet, Ryan puts the vodka bottle directly to his lips -- it just seems so sad and lonely to leave a tiny little amount of alcohol behind. So he swallows the last of it, then tosses the empty bottle into the recycling bin. He's steady as ever on his feet, although his focus is a bit less sharp than usual when he watches Sam sling an arm around his mate's shoulders, and he follows the two men down the hall to the master bedroom.

There's lube and condoms in the bedside table, even though it's been ages since he and Ryan used the last, and Sam pulls out a handful of both and dumps them within easy reach. He yanks his t-shirt over his head and grins at Mike who does the same. "You sure you're okay with this?" he asks Ryan, tugging him in by his belt loop. He doesn't even need to hear the words. One wrong look from his lover and he'll send them all back to the living room.

"Yeah. Sure." Ryan nods at Sam but then quickly gets distracted by the cut definition of Mike's chest. "Do you work out a lot?" he asks, and absently wonders if he's drooling.

Sam almost laughs but bites it back for fear he'll break the spell. Taking advantage of Ryan's distraction to get rid of the rest of his clothes.

Mike nods. "Every day," he says, unzipping his jeans and dropping them and his boxers to the floor, "although I usually ease up when I'm on vacation. Settle for going for a morning run."

"Cool. Yeah." Belatedly Ryan starts to strip as well. He has a feeling he could easily slip into a long involved conversation with Mike about what kind of running he likes, does he want tips for while he's in the neighbourhood, what his goals for training are in general... _Focus_. It would probably all just be nervous babble anyway. He kicks his puddled jeans into a corner and flexes, then relaxes, his hands at his sides. Sam must find him and his nerves fucking hilarious.

"C'mere," Sam says, taking Ryan's hand and reeling Mike in too. He smiles at them both and kisses Ryan, tongue delving into his mouth. And then it's Mike's turn, their tongues tangling as well.

Ryan's anxious demeanor softens instantly at Sam's familiar flavour. But then Sam pulls away, and Ryan watches the two mates kissing each other without even the slightest hesitation, and he reaches out to slide his hand over Mike's hip, down to cup the curve of his ass. Smooth warm skin. Inviting.

Mike moans into Sam's mouth, then shivers slightly at the hand on his skin, the hand that can only be Ryan's. He draws back from his mate and turns to Ryan, staring into his eyes for a moment before leaning in for a kiss, his tongue teasing between the other man's lips.

Christ. Sam watches, his cock hardening eagerly at the sight, and runs his hands over both men, their backs and hips, keeping them close to him.

With a soft moan, Ryan opens up. Mike's hair is dark and thick and Ryan tangles his fingers in it, keeping the man in place while he takes more control, aggressively kissing back.

"You sure you still want to watch him fuck me?" Sam teases, unable to resist.

"Was that what we agreed on?" Ryan murmurs, nibbling at Mike's bottom lip. Hell, the truth is that he wants Sam to fuck _him_ \-- always. But this could be fun, too. "Whatever you want."

"We could both fuck you," Sam suggests with a grin.

Ryan blinks. "Dream on, Worthington," he mutters, a gleam in his eye that says there _will_ be payback for that comment. Later.

"Or you could both fuck me," Mike offers.

Sam snorts. "Maybe we'll take you up on that later," he says then kisses Ryan again. Very deliberately ignoring that gleam. "You want to have a seat in the chair or join us on the bed?"

"Uh, chair," Ryan decides. He has a feeling if he sits on the bed, then he won't be able to simply watch for long... Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing. Still, he sits down and angles the chair towards the bed, stretching out his legs in front of him.

Sam waits until Ryan's seated before kissing Mike again, groaning softly at the way their cocks rub together.

"It's been a while," Mike murmurs, biting at Sam's mouth. "Especially since you let me fuck you."

Sam laughs. "You're only getting to do it now because Ryan wants to see it," he murmurs back. "Hands and knees?"

 _God_. Ryan swallows hard, staring at the two men together. Hearing Sam ask 'Hands and knees?' - of someone else - is weird as all fucking hell, and pretty damn uncomfortable to boot. But that doesn't mean it arouses Ryan any less.

"Works for me," Mike says, figuring that anything more intimate might really freak Ryan out.

Sam gets into position, grinning over at Ryan. "I love you," he mouths.

Hard as hell, Mike rolls on a condom and slicks his fingers with lube, slipping two between Sam's cheeks and rubbing over his hole.

Trust Sam to go and disarm Ryan in an instant like that. Melt him, even. He smiles shyly, shrugging a little. He's pretty sure Sam is confident that Ryan loves him right back. And then when Mike penetrates Sam's body with those long long fingers of his... _God_. Ryan drops a hand to press lightly on his cock.

A hard shudder travels through Sam's frame as Mike pushes those fingers deeper, adding a third one a little too quickly for his liking. "Asshole," he mutters, wincing even as his cock jerks and drips on the covers below.

"You know you love it," Mike teases.

Ryan moans softly, although he does try to swallow the sound. It's just too fucking weird: watching Sam and Mike together makes his skin crawl in a way that watching Sam with Eva never did. But at the same time... He closes his hand tightly around his prick. His very stiff prick.

Mike takes his time opening Sam up, a fourth finger added much more slowly than the third until he feels Sam's body give and really relax for him. He pulls out, replacing fingers with cock, pushing the head through that first still-tight ring of muscle, a low groan spilling from his lips at fucking hot and tight Sam is.

Cursing under his breath, Sam pushes back. He doesn't want slow. And sure as hell not from Mike.

God, the two men are gorgeous together: smooth skin, hard definition of muscle, and those sexy sounds of response spilling from their lips. Ryan has a fleeting thought that the porn fairies really blessed him today.

Mike grabs Sam's hips, gripping tight, trying to keep him in place as he slowly pushes deeper.

But Sam's not about to put up with that. He shifts, one way and then the other before slamming back onto Mike's cock, taking just about every last inch at once, his shout muffled against the inside of his arm.

Swallowing a whimper, Ryan jerks his hand around his cock. Did he say he wanted to watch? To _wait_? Fuck, what the hell was he thinking? He strokes slowly, figuring he really needs to pace himself if he's going to follow through on his promise to fuck Mike.

"Hey," Mike growls, slapping Sam on the ass, his cock giving a throb that puts him _thisclose_ to going over. "That's fucking cheating."

Sam laughs, shoving back onto Mike's cock. "Uh uh. Ryan didn't set any rules other than you not coming while fucking me."

 _Rules?_ Ryan thinks incredulously, listening in. Of all the men in the room... He swallows hard and watches Sam's face, lust shivering through him.

Mike just shakes his head. He really should know better. But two can play at that game, he decides, slipping a hand under Sam and grasping his cock, working it roughly as he pounds into him.

Sam yells again, meeting every thrust, his cock speared through the circle of Mike's fingers. He bears down, clenching the muscles in his ass, willing Mike to fucking come. Come now.

Oh, god, when Sam yells like that... Ryan shudders hard and sucks in a breath, still trying to observe without interfering. But he just can't help the way he strokes his cock now, fast and rough. Like he's got no plans for later whatsoever.

Hand or no hand, Sam's confident he can outlast Mike, no problem at all. Until he glances over at Ryan and sees his lover sitting there, jerking off to the sight in front of him, and he just fucking _loses_ it, spraying the bedsheets below with his seed, his whole body clenching tight around the cock inside his ass.

"Oh, hell." Ryan instantly rings his fingers tightly around the base of his prick, shoving himself back from the edge. And he eyes Mike's ass. Because if the guy is going to make _his_ lover come like _that_ , then Ryan definitely has plans for him.

Mike grits his teeth and digs his fingers into Sam's hips so fucking hard there's no way there won't be bruises. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. He breathes through the clench of Sam's body, willing himself back from the edge, cock pulsing dangerously close before he pulls back and out, settling on his heels behind Sam.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Sam murmurs under his breath, head dropped to his hands. He takes a couple deep breaths, exhaling slowly, then slips from the bed, shaking his head at Ryan. "Remind me not to look at you next time," he teases.

"What'd I do?" Ryan asks, with a feigned innocence worthy of Jason Stackhouse. Feeling like he's got himself under control - for the moment, at least - he gets to his feet, long rangy limbs moving with athletic grace as he approaches the two men on the bed. He makes sure that Mike is getting an eyeful when he leans down to kiss Sam.

Sam moans into Ryan's mouth, wrapping a hand around the back of his lover's neck and keeping him there until they have to break for breath. "My turn," he whispers then, slipping from the bed, a hand trailed over Ryan's hip on his way to the chair.

"How do you want me?" Mike asks Ryan, his cock throbbing, downright _aching_ after that little show.

"Against the wall," Ryan answers, nodding towards the headboard. He uses the few necessary moments of collecting lube and another condom to steady his own breathing, clamp down tight on any urgency rushing through his body.

Mike kneewalks to the head of the bed and braces his hands against wall, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his thighs. He glances over his shoulder at Ryan, hole clenching in anticipation, his gaze flickering to Sam. It's been a long time since they shared a lover. An actual _lover_.

Sam settles in the chair, his cock spent, arousal still simmering. This is so different from watching Ryan with Eva - and he hasn't decided whether it's a good different or a bad one. Maybe won't know until after.

Picking up the lube from where it was tossed, Ryan takes his time slicking up two of his fingers. He presses them to Mike's hole, then meets and holds the man's gaze as he penetrates him.

"Oh, fuck," the words spill from Mike's mouth and he licks his lips, his cock jerking, wet at its tip. "It's been a while," he confesses, resisting the urge to give Sam the finger when the other man's smile widens into a grin.

"Do you want me to take it easy on you?" Ryan asks, his voice mild. But the smirk has got to be blindingly obvious to his lover.

"Are you kidding?" Mike shakes his head. "I very much _don't_ want you to take it easy on me."

Ryan grins and shoves a third finger inside. He works them in and out, curling to rub against Mike's sweet spot. But he glances over to meet his lover's eyes, and his grin widens.

Sam grins back. For all that he's watching them both, his attention's really on Ryan, on every movement, every expression... Fuck. It's hard to sit here and just watch.

Mike groans under his breath, pushing back eagerly, his cock dripping more and more.

It's a trip for Ryan, topping someone so much larger than he is. A thrill rushes through him - although he's pretty sure it's misplaced - and he pulls his fingers away, wiping them dry on the bedsheets so that he can snap open a rubber and unroll it onto his dick. He spreads Mike's ass cheeks with his fingers, fitting the head of his cock to that slick pucker. Then he holds his breath and pushes in, slow and steady but determined not to stop until he's balls-deep -- or until Mike makes him stop.

Mike groans even louder, hands curling into fists against the wall. He presses back, increasing the stretch, a soft, "fuck, yes," slipping from him.

Christ. Sam's cock has barely gone soft before it's hardening again, his eyes locked on Ryan's cock going into Mike, fucking his friend open.

It's easier going with Mike's help, and Ryan settles for a second, his balls snug up against the man's ass. But a second is all he spares before he draws back out. He slides his hands over the smooth skin of Mike's hips. Then he digs his fingers in, driving in hard again and again.

Mike grunts with each thrust, shoving back hard to meet Ryan, flesh slapping together, his hole aching, burning, and his cock all the harder for it. "Yeah, that's it, fuck me," he urges.

Which just makes Sam groan, the sound spilling from his lips without thought, his own hole clenching tight with jealousy.

Ryan's ear catches that groan, and he tips his head back, so attuned to his lover even when he's inside someone else. Turning his head he meets Sam's eyes. He licks his lips, watching his lover intently while he changes his angle and drives harder into Mike.

Jesus Christ. Sam drops his hand to his cock, his eyes locked on Ryan as he strokes, matching his lover's thrusts.

 _Fuck..._ Mike is hot. Really hot. Tall and built and with a sexy sly grin, not to mention a really tight ass that he's willing to give up for a real pounding. But it seems like Sam is the only man Ryan can even see clearly anymore. He's just so fucking gorgeous, his focused gaze feeling like a palpable touch to Ryan's skin. Burning him up. "Jack yourself off," Ryan orders Mike gruffly, because he's too damn close to the edge.

"Yes, sir," Mike murmurs, one hand slipping from the wall to wrap thick fingers around his cock, the touch quickly putting him right _there_. With a cry, he comes, spattering the headboard and the wall in front of him.

Ryan's mind is still reeling from that unexpected 'sir' when Mike clenches even tighter around him, and there's absolutely no chance of holding back anymore. He shoots hot into the rubber, thrusting just as hard, just as steadily until he's almost dizzy with aftershocks. Then finally he slows, dropping his head forward to rest against Mike's shoulder.

Sam goes over the moment he sees Ryan lose it, hand furiously working his cock until every last drop's spent, his eyes finally closing. But it's not long before he's up from the chair and onto the bed. "Move over," he tells Mike, giving his friend a nudge.

Pulling out, Ryan quickly disposes of the condom, and he can't help looking over his shoulder to watch Sam. Because suddenly this is just weird, and he wants his lover close. Close and reassuring.

Mike grumbles but he collapses to one side of the bed, hand beneath his head, just staring up at the ceiling.

Sam stretches out, pulling Ryan to lie between them, his arms around his lover. "I love you," he whispers, kissing Ryan softly. Anyone else and he might have to worry about making sure they don't feel weird but he knows Mike's okay. Can concentrate on Ryan and only Ryan.

Ryan echoes the sentiment with a nod, and shifts to wrap himself around Sam. He feels awkward and rude, turning his back on Mike like this, but he's quite a bit more freaked-out than he ever would've predicted. Sharing Sam with another man is _definitely_ hugely different from sharing him with a woman.

[To chapter fifty-six](http://archiveofourown.org/works/997755)


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